


Starting Off

by Dana



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, probably post-series, semi-domestic fluff with some smuttiness, thinky Gene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 12:06:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5205299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dana/pseuds/Dana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's just his birthday, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starting Off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xysabridde](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xysabridde/gifts).



> Happy birthday, **xysabridde**. ♥♥♥ This isn't the story I meant to write for you, but I hope you enjoy it anyhow! I hope to get that other thing finished eventually. Thank you for always being so wonderful. I'm so incredibly happy we got a chance to meet in October! *HUGS*
> 
> You're the best. :D Happy birthday!
> 
> (Originally posted to the lifein1973 lj comm on November 12th, 2015)

For being the start of his birthday, it's bloody awful. Sam's shifting about in bed, not just letting him sleep, and while Gene tries his best to not give a damn and not shift about in return, Sam's restlessness is catching. He groans.

'Hey. Wake up.' Gene grumbles and shifts about just a little bit more, keeping his eyes shut. 'I know you're awake. Happy birthday, Gene.'

It's new enough to wake with Sam in bed with him – not that Gene minds it, the nights that come before or the mornings that follow after – but it's new enough, which makes it a novelty, almost dangerous, and thrilling. He doesn't always appreciate how early Sam tends to rise, but Sam mostly –almost all the time, really – makes up for his transgressions.

And bedtime with Sam, well, it's closer to comfortable now, when at the start of it, it really wasn't comfortable at all, and not just for Gene. Sam was having trouble with that new level of intimacy, but now that they've worked out a bedtime routine... well, it mostly works out for the both of them. Sam doesn't complain about how much and just how loudly Gene snores, and whenever he does decide to be a pain about it, Gene's quick to point out that at least he doesn't kick when he's dreaming and talk in his sleep. That tends to work a treat and get Sam to shut his mouth. Gene just doesn't understand how one bloke can talk as much as Sam does, whether he's awake or not.

Gene grumbles into the pillow as Sam nuzzles a kiss to the nape of his neck, warm and distracting. The bedside light's on, on Sam's side of the bed, orange light brightening the dark on Gene's side of things. It's warm enough out, and warmer in the house, so it's pure heat beneath the covers. They've taken to not wearing their pyjamas, most of the time, for fear of heat stroke. So Sam, right now, is nudging against him in all the right ways.

'Don't you start with that bollocks too. Heard enough of it already.'

Sam's next kiss is softened by the huff of his laugh, the smooth slide of his hand. 'Who else have you been talking to this morning? I wasn't gone _that_ long on my run.'

'No talking. Just dreaming.'

Another soft chuckle, and then Sam's leg is sliding up and over Gene's – his arm, just as warm, slithers over Gene's slide, palm smooth against his belly as it slips downwards. Gene grumbles, but it's hardly in displeasure, not as he pushes back into the grounded heat of Sam's body, even as Sam's hand continues its downward descent.

'Showered?' he asks, trying to make a point – whatever point it might have been, he really couldn't say. He nearly hears it, the sound of Sam rolling his eyes. It's obvious enough he's avoiding the topic at hand, and Sam's not going to let him get away with it – not even today of all days. Not that Sam's ever just happy enough to let things be.

'Towelled myself off,' Sam replies, giving him another kiss. 'Thought we could take a shower together.' He sounds oddly eager, but then, Gene knows by now just how much Sam likes it when they shower at the same time. It's one more thing they've had more of since Sam's started spending more time at his house, and other than the hot water running out faster than it used to, Gene really doesn't mind that, either.

'Don't _you_ start with that bollocks again,' Sam says, reading between the lines – reading Gene's silence, that is. 'I know it's your birthday, but that doesn't mean you're old.'

Any snappy come back he might have given is stolen away by the breathless groan he gives instead, Sam's hand finding its final destination, fingers wrapping round and the slight damp of his palm flush against Gene's suddenly aching prick. 'Bastard,' is all Gene gets out, to Sam's amused huff, the twitch of his own hip the only give as he doesn't simply lose himself to mindlessly thrusting into the tight grip of Sam's hand. 'Bastard,' he says again, rasping, Sam's hold on him tightening a fraction more as he tugs downwards, right to the root.

'Mhmm,' Sam hums, pleased, pressing kisses to Gene's neck, his back, his shoulders, licking the sweat from his skin, patience incarnate as he pulls Gene along. He's not even hard, the prick – or his prick, that is – but he's warm and his hand is close enough to perfect. Another pleased hum, another set of dizzying kisses, and Sam –

Sam stops, that's what he does, much to Gene's irritation and distress. He growls and goes to twist about, but Sam's leg has got him pinned in place and his hand is sliding upwards, palming back across Gene's belly. He doesn't stop until Gene's caught up in his embrace, well and truly caught.

'I love you – all of you, you gorgeous bastard.'

All he manages is a throaty groan, Sam pressing his lips to his shoulder. 'What's the plan then, Gladys?' He only asks that when the silence starts edging towards awkward. Sam certainly doesn't love him at work – their animosity is at times legendary, after all – but that's just how they work. Doing otherwise might make their fellow team members suspicious, and while sometimes he's sure the combined might of them couldn't even find their way out of a paper sack, well, they are a team of detectives. Better safe than sorry, so the fighting and the egging each other on, well, it never ends.

'The plan?' The cheeky bastard even tries to sound innocent, but Gene knows him better than that.

'You've been looking forward to this more than I have, so go on then, what's on the itinerary?'

'Oh,' Sam snuggles up against him, sliding his hand back down, and Gene pushes back and forward at the same time, which causes Sam to chuckle. 'Well, after work, you're being treated to drinks at the pub. If you don't end up absolutely bloody pissed, there's a place I'd like to take you for dinner. If you do end up absolutely bloody pissed, well, there's always next year.'

There's a note of teasing in his voice, fond but exasperated, and Gene huffs and groans and Sam squeezes him, rough but sweet. 'Bloody hell. I'll be on my best behaviour, especially if you're paying.'

'You're never letting me off the hook for that, are you?'

He gets out a cheery 'Nope!' before Sam's next squeeze has him gasping for his breath.

Sam's nudging against his back now, and there's one more small laugh, half a choke as he groans. 'You're really going to be good? I'll believe it when I see it,' he says, biting at Gene's shoulder and giving him a tight squeeze. That's when Gene snaps and pulls free of him, twisting about and pulling Sam against him. He gets one arm around Sam's back, slides one hand down, just as Sam's greedily grabbing for him. There's some laughter, mutual and half-muted, as they wrestle about and fight for control. Gene's still feeling like he's the winner when he ends up flat on his back, Sam warm atop him, nudging his legs wider with the press of his thighs.

Then there's half a moment, where all they do is stare at each other, and Sam breathes a little too hard for his good. He pulls himself up, all hot skin and pressing need, and Gene loops an arm about him and mashes his mouth upwards, meeting Sam's.

When he pulls back, it's to shoot alook to the side. Then he's grinning, smugly, and Gene has to pull him back down, hand in his hair. 'We've plenty,' he says, amidst kisses and more kisses, 'of time before we need to go in.' Sam groans, and Gene follows after him. Sam grinds his hips forwards, and Gene licks at his kiss-swollen lips. 'To, you know, do whatever. Woke you up early, you know. In case there was anything you wanted to do.'

'Mhmm. Can't even enjoy a proper lie-in on my birthday. And what about breakfast in bed?'

Sam chuckles and Gene swallows it down in another kiss, the slow sort they never let themselves really enjoy. The type he's been getting more and more of, lately, at least since he's taken to letting Sam sleep in his bed.

Sam arches an eyebrow at him, smugly so. 'Guess this means you're really not all that put out that I'm not waiting on you hand and foot.'

Gene huffs out a laugh of his own, and flips Sam over onto his back. He's righted himself in a moment, and Sam still looks blankly stunned. 'We'll get to that when we get to that,' Gene says, and dives back down for another kiss. Sam rises back up just as eagerly, tangling one hand in Gene's hair, grabbing a his arse with the other.

For the start of his birthday, it's really not as bad as it might have been. He's not as old or as tired feeling as he was just a handful of minutes before, and when Sam gets a handful of _him_ in his hot little palm, well, he's happy to let this little act set the tone for the rest of his day.

Happy birthday to him, indeed.


End file.
